


Scars

by DesertVixen



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-07
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:27:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25120876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DesertVixen/pseuds/DesertVixen
Summary: They both have scars
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Natasha Romanov
Comments: 3
Kudos: 8
Collections: Little Black Dress Exchange 2020





	Scars

**Author's Note:**

  * For [seinmit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/seinmit/gifts).



He ran his hand down her body, feeling the roughness of the scar under his thumb, murmuring against her neck, “And this one?”

They had been comparing scars, teasing each other in the dim room as they let their hands roam, enjoying this small space of quiet.

She stiffened, then sighed. “You shot me. Through a car door.”

He didn’t remember it, didn’t remember much about any individual job, but he didn’t doubt her.

After a moment of silence, she slid her hand up his neck, tilted her head back in invitation. “Don’t worry about it.”

He set it aside, but he did not forget about it

*** 

He had learned his lesson. 

He didn’t ask about any other scars.

They both had plenty. 

Physical scars, the kind that tended to draw attention, so they kept them covered. 

Mental scars, the kind that no one could see, the kind that he felt could never really be healed enough.

It was smarter if they didn’t talk about what caused scars – either kind.

It was smarter just to enjoy the moment, the quiet, the escape, and to dwell on that instead.

They both knew what it was to be molded as a weapon, to be turned into someone else’s instrument, to lose control. 

How many times had the part of him that was still just Bucky simply wished he had died in the fall from the train? Surely death would have been better than this cursed sort of immortality, where they kept him in a cage and only released him when they wanted him to do tricks. The faces changed, but their demands never really did. He still wasn’t clear how he had survived the fall (the impact was one of the things he could never seem to forget) but in his clear moments he thought it must have something to do with the experiments when he was a prisoner of war – of Zola.

He had kept waking up in a world where everyone he had known and loved and fought with was gone, but he continued on, a man out of his own time.

Until he discovered they were not all gone. Until he learned that the scrappy kid from Brooklyn who was too stupid to walk away from fights he couldn’t win, his best friend who had agreed to be a lab rat because it was the only way he could get into uniform, was still there.

Then it had seemed inevitable that they would eventually find their way back to each other. Steve knew some of what Bucky had done. He didn’t blame him, because he still remembered the man who had fought beside him, because Steve loved him like a brother.

Natasha didn’t blame him either, but it was because she knew what it was like to not be free, knew what it was like to not be in charge. She knew what it was like to need a space where they could control everything. She knew that not every secret needed to be spoken aloud, knew that quiet and touch and the not-quiet that came from enough touches were healing.

She knew what it was like to have scars.

**Author's Note:**

> So I don't know when precisely this happens, but it needs to. I hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
